In times like these, indulgence is justifiable. I bought a tub of delicious Monty Bojangles truffles from the deli, for Easter, and it was broached last night. Any part of the Easter weekend counts, as far as I’m concerned, this year.
It was the autumn after Russell died that changed my outlook. One night, in late September, I was chilly. I wanted to light the fire, but that seemed just plain wrong before October at least. And then I thought, what if I died in the night (which wasn’t likely, but who knows?)? I would have deprived myself of a small amount of pleasure for no reason at all and it would be too late to put it right. So I lit the fire. Over the course of the next year, I think I lit the fire at least once (sometimes every day, of course) in every month. I felt cold or cheerless, I put a match to some sticks. It did me good.
Having said that, the weather has been fabulous for the last few days and we haven’t needed to light the fire at all. But that’s beside the point.